Breathing in, then out—a fact of life that can, given careful attention, turn into a grounding and restorative ritual. With an observant camera alive to detail and atmosphere, filmmaker Christopher Makoto Yogi finds similar healing powers in the natural rhythms of his native Hawaii. More than a pretty backdrop, the archipelago is transformative for the troubled characters of this beguiling double bill.
When the saxophone player returns to those Pacific islands in August at Akiko’s (2018), he has been away for decades. The elderly loner in I Was a Simple Man (2021), meanwhile, has spent most of his life in Hawaii. Yet both men feel out of place, their sorrow conspicuous among the tranquil scenery. Unexpected guides come to their rescue, each one as intriguingly mysterious as they are reassuringly familiar. In August at Akiko’s, the friendly bed-and-breakfast owner of the title is a Buddhist, and when Yogi films her, it’s a whole perspective on the world that he captures. Through her gentle gaze, simple moments of happiness and connection take on a heart-stopping majesty.
If Akiko’s grace sometimes makes her seem otherworldly, Yogi leans further into a metaphysical dimension in I Was a Simple Man. Here, the guide is a ghost, returned from the dead to help an old man navigate his last days. The hypnotic films of this double bill collapse the boundary between the physical and spiritual worlds. Taking their cue from the poetic realism of New Taiwanese Cinema and the uncanny realms of Apichatpong Weerasethakul, they imbue the most ordinary experiences with reverence and beauty.

Breathing in, then out&#8212;a fact of life that can, given careful attention, turn into a grounding and restorative ritual. With an observant camera alive to detail and atmosphere, filmmaker Christopher Makoto Yogi finds similar healing powers in the natural rhythms of his native Hawaii. More than a pretty backdrop, the archipelago is transformative for the troubled characters of this beguiling double bill.
When the saxophone player returns to those Pacific islands in August at Akiko&#8217;s (2018), he has been away for decades. The elderly loner in I Was a Simple Man (2021), meanwhile, has spent most of his life in Hawaii. Yet both men feel out of place, their sorrow conspicuous among the tranquil scenery. Unexpected guides come to their rescue, each one as intriguingly mysterious as they are reassuringly familiar. In August at Akiko&#8217;s, the friendly bed-and-breakfast owner of the title is a Buddhist, and when Yogi films her, it&#8217;s a whole perspective on the world that he captures. Through her gentle gaze, simple moments of happiness and connection take on a heart-stopping majesty.
If Akiko&#8217;s grace sometimes makes her seem otherworldly, Yogi leans further into a metaphysical dimension in I Was a Simple Man. Here, the guide is a ghost, returned from the dead to help an old man navigate his last days. The hypnotic films of this double bill collapse the boundary between the physical and spiritual worlds. Taking their cue from the poetic realism of New Taiwanese Cinema and the uncanny realms of Apichatpong Weerasethakul, they imbue the most ordinary experiences with reverence and beauty.

Everyday Poetry:  Two by Christopher Makoto Yogi

EVERYDAY POETRY:  TWO BY CHRISTOPHER MAKOTO YOGI

More than a pretty backdrop, the archipelago of Hawaii is transformative for the troubled characters of this beguiling double bill. Imbuing the most ordinary experiences with reverence, Christopher Makoto Yogi’s exquisite, patient films are attuned to the magic of harmony.

More than a pretty backdrop, the archipelago of Hawaii is transformative for the troubled characters of this beguiling double bill. Imbuing the most ordinary experiences with reverence, Christopher Makoto Yogi&#8217;s exquisite, patient films are attuned to the magic of harmony.